


Rough Surf On The Coast

by webshop



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Autistic Sherlock Holmes, Big Brother Mycroft Holmes, Drug Use, Gender Dysphoria, Growing Up, Holmes Parents Are Trying Their Best, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Mycroft Being a Good Brother, Mycroft is a Bit Not Good, Pre-Canon, Protective Mycroft, Sherlock Ever The Scientist, Sherlock is a Brat, Translock, but when is he not
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2019-10-29 17:17:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17812142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/webshop/pseuds/webshop
Summary: An insight into Sherlock's life being transgender, Mycroft's denial of his own sexuality and how the Holmes brothers fell apart.Mycroft knew before he did, he saw the signs and knew that Aurelia would realize that she wasn't who she was supposed to be.title comes from the song Transgender Dysphoria Blues by Against Me!





	1. Growing Into The Wrong Skin (Is This Normal, Big Brother?)

Growing up in the wrong body, no matter how supportive your family is, is hell. Even for Sherlock Holmes who claimed to have complete control over his transport. The awkward stage of not knowing what is wrong but knowing that something is very well wrong. Hearing a name you've disassociated yourself from, but it still floats over your head. Getting told "Don't be rude," when you scream at your relatives because they keep calling you a pretty lady. The first signs being ignored because of your previous diagnosis, Aspergers Syndrome at age 7, and then being disregarded because being _uncomfortable_ is _normal_. Mirrors become your worst enemy because, despite puberty still being years away, you are inherently feminine with big eyes, long curls, and a chubby face. (Long hair turns to a messy mop after Mycroft leaves.) Your parents don't know what to do because Mycroft was a perfect child, despite him being on the spectrum as well he was never this much of a problem.

Aurelia was everything young girls weren't supposed to be: Loud, rude, messy. She had no respect for adults or anyone. She wore her brother's old clothes and would scream like a siren whenever she was told to wear a dress, her mother still forced her into dresses when they had company though. They didn't understand that their second born was different but when they got the tenth warning from school about her behavior, they decided homeschooling was the only option. Six-year-olds that know more than most teenagers aren't normal, but even worse is when she starts to have meltdowns because her peas and carrots are touching. When she won't let anyone touch her because "It burns!". The Holmes children are evaluated and every doctor they see comes to the same conclusion. (Of course, Sherlock only knows this fabricated string of events, the events with Eurus were an entirely different matter. But it was mostly the truth when Eurus first cut her arm open all three of them met multiple doctors over the next few months. A month after Victor went missing and Sherlock received his diagnosis, two weeks later Musgrave burnt down) 

Aurelia is eight when she first acknowledges that she isn't comfortable in her body, she starts to refer to herself as he in her mind, at first it isn't even consciously and he doesn't realize it until after her letter to Mycroft. He changes his appearance, wearing Mycroft's old clothing makes him feel better so he tells his mother he wants a new wardrobe. That only helps him for so long, his behavior gets worse as this feeling grows. He goes through two tutors in a month and Mycroft has to intervene by taking over the teaching for two weeks. The fifteen-year-old has already voiced his suspicions about Aurelia to his uncle but Rudy told him to concentrate on getting into Oxford. He accepts the new tutor but only because Mycroft promised him that he would buy him new equipment for his chemistry set. 

Mycroft knew before he did, he saw the signs and knew that Aurelia would realize that she wasn't who she was supposed to be. Mycroft being a homosexual ~~in denial~~ made him rather familiar with the LGBT community. (The '80s pop cultre and Oxford boys were a threat to Mycroft's sexuality. ) Sherlock would spend hours in the library skimming through psychology books, maybe this was his Aspergers and it was just something that wasn't discussed. He ruled that out after a few hours, feeling uncomfortable was very common but feeling like your body wasn't your own? No. The books gave him no answers, that wasn't very common for him so he became more frustrated and finally decided to resort to his personal know-it-all.

Mycroft had two months prior been accepted into the University of Oxford and despite him being at the young age of sixteen, he was ahead of most of his peers both mentally and academically. He had expected his sibling to throw a fit but he didn't expect the silent treatment, nonetheless, he couldn't just abandon the plan that Rudy had laid out for him. Sherlock had decided to write a letter, he was still enraged at his brother for leaving him but he would preferably ask him than to turn to his uncle, or even worse, his parents.

 

_Mycroft, I am still mad at you but the library's books have failed me and if you do as well I am turning to uncle Rudy. please be helpful. I feel as if my body doesn't belong to me, my mind has disconnected itself from my name and I cannot see myself in the mirror without feeling ~~sick~~ enraged. Mummy tells me to stop with the dramatics when I refuse to wear these atrocious dresses for tea, they make me feel as if I am being forced to be something I am not ~~, but if I'm not this then who am~~ I ~~?~~ The longer I spend in them, the urge to skin myself grows. I cut my hair last night because I assumed that it was one of the causes of this ~~sickness? disgust? hatred?~~ discomfort, I was correct. Mummy will probably be mad but I really could not care less. The other day I was mistaken for a boy because I had been hiding my hair in a cap, I don't know how to describe my feelings afterward of this incident but I think euphoria  ~~a feeling of happiness, confidence, or well being sometimes exaggerated in pathological states as mania~~ would be suiting. What does this mean? Is there something wrong with me ~~well, besides the obvious~~  or is this normal for girls my age? _

_Hateful regards, ~~fat git,~~ from ~~Aurelia~~  A. Holmes._


	2. Mycroft Holmes; Ever The Peace Maker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You said that you have disassociated yourself from your name, why don't you pick out a new one before I return home. I would suggest looking at old family names, 18th, and 19th century. Let Mummy fix your hair and as soon as I arrived, you have my word that I will take you to my barber. I hope you are well, as well as you can possibly be, please do not skin yourself.
> 
> With deepest regards, 
> 
> Your brother, Mycroft Holmes.
> 
> -
> 
> Mycroft replies to Sherlock's letter and then returns home, Sherlock feels overwhelmed.

_Dear A,_

_I revised your letter at the same time as I received Mummy's. She is requesting I come at once, so be prepared to see me this coming Saturday. I have suspected that you would turn to me about these feelings, I have known for much longer than you have about them. The feelings you are describing is because you have Gender Dysphoria, no I am not a doctor so Do Not take this as an official diagnosis. I will be sending a book with my letter about this topic. Transsexual or transgender people have which causes them to feel a disconnect with their birth sex, it is obvious that you've never felt okay with your body and even our parents are aware of that, but they are all attributing it to your Aspergers when that is not the only cause. You said that you have disassociated yourself from your name, why don't you pick out a new one before I return home. I would suggest looking at old family names, 18th, and 19th century. Let Mummy fix your hair and as soon as I arrived, you have my word that I will take you to my barber. I hope you are well, as well as you can possibly be, please do not skin yourself._

_With deepest regards,_

_Your brother, Mycroft Holmes._

 

He finished reading the letter and then looked at the package it had come with, he ripped the brown paper off and stared at the book. Transgender 101: A Simple Guide to a Complex Issue. Despite the book being barely a year old, it looked well read and there was a coffee stain on the first page, conclusion: it wasn't Mycroft's book originally. He slipped the book under his pillow and went back to his desk, Transgender. The world circled would him and he remembered hearing the word from his mother, a year or so ago. He sighed and shook his head, Mycroft would arrive tomorrow morning and he needed to do some research. 

Names were very important in the Holmes family, they all had at least three names and the further he went back into their family tree the more complex ones he found. His parents were a bit different, they had expected normal kids but still kept the family tradition. Violet Elizabeth Holmes: their mother, she despised it and only ever went by Violet "None of this Mrs. Holmes business," she would often say. Her brother: Edwin Rudolph Carlton Holmes. Their father: Siger Scott Rutherford. Mycroft, who despised his name, Charles Mycroft Rudolph  Holmes. There were more names but he just skimmed over those, he ran his finger over the last name in the book, at the very bottom: Charlotte Aurelia Wilhelmina Holmes, there was nothing about that name he liked. So he went back two centuries and started there.

- 

"William Sherlock Scott, Sherlock... Where did you-", "He was a detective, 1880's. He wasn't very successful, ended up killing himself." He grinned at his older brother who was looking over all the names that his sibling had picked out. "And William? It is quite similar to Wilhelmina, I thought you did not wish to as-", "I like the name, William!" He interrupted Mycroft once again. "I want to be called Sherlock, like you Myc. I just have the boring names for Mummy and Father..." Mycroft smiled, he was proud that ~~Aurelia~~ Sherlock had come to terms with this new data so quickly, he even looked happier despite his scowl and rumpled mop of hair that Mummy had tried to fix. William Sherlock Scott, Mycroft's younger brother. "Well, if you're certain... When shall tell Mummy then?" He asked, he has risked all the factors on the train ride here and he was certain that his parents would be worried, and confused but would accept it. All they had was their children's happiness in mind, after Eurus, they knew it would be a mistake to deny something that was blatantly obvious. 

"Now!" Sherlock grabbed his brother's hand and pulled him downstairs where their parents were having tea, there was tension in the room as soon as the two arrived. Mummy looked up "Mycroft dear, why don't you sit down. You too, Aurelia. We haven't had tea together in ages." Sherlock shook his head "I'm not Aurelia. I want you to call me Sherlock, well... William Sherlock Scott but I like Sherlock the most and the other names are boring. I'm not a girl!" His last statement was very firm, he crossed his arms over his chest and looked up at Mycroft. Sherlock really had to work on his politeness. 

"What do you mean you're not a girl?" Siger asked, pushing his glasses up his nose to look at his youngest. He wasn't cross or disappointed, just a bit confused. "Mycie, what is this?" Mummy looked confused as well, more concerned than anything. The eldest sighed "Sherlock, has Gender Dysphoria. Of course, we will have to talk to his psychiatrist but I am sure she will confirm my diagnosis. We have been associating his discomfort with Aspergers but he has expressed to me that his discomfort goes beyond the typical discomfort that we are familiar with. Untreated, this can result in his mental health declining, he still hasn't hit puberty yet and once he does it will get critical." Mummy frowned "Why didn't you tell us you were feeling this way." She set her tea down and walked over to her youngest, crouching down to look at him. "This is very serious Aurelia-Sherlock, I apologize, and I want you to be sure that this isn't some passing feeling." 

Sherlock frowned "I did try, many times! You ignored it. I am positive if you don't like it then I-I'll..." He sniffled, he could feel their disappointment.  _He compared Mummy and Father's face to the emotion flashcards that Mycroft gave him. Head down, eyebrows furrowed, frown - > disappointment._ "I'll run away, you'll never find me. I know every Kilometer by heart and I could hide forever, I am a boy and I'm Sherlock-" Mummy put her arms around her youngest son "I believe you, you don't have to run away sweetheart." She kissed his forehead softly. "How about you go play with your brother. Your father and I have to discuss this." She let him go and went to sit down. Sherlock squirmed and ran upstairs, Mycroft sighed and turned to follow him.

Sherlock was about to slam his door shut but Mycroft foot was stuck in the doorway, _stupid git_. "Go away Mycroft!" He felt like crying, no, he wanted to scream. He wanted to rip his books from the shelf and jump off the roof. He told them and they weren't mad but he still felt so angry. Mycroft pushed the door open and then sat on Sherlock's bed "This is good, brother. I promise." He patted the spot on the bed next to him, the brown-haired boy sat next to his brother and kicked his leg. "They were disappointed, I can see. They don't want another son, they already have you." Sherlock rubbed his eyes to keep the tears from spilling. Mycroft shook his head "Nonsense, they don't care what your gender is, 'Lock." Sherlock started to cry, he buried his nose into Mycroft's arm and cried. Maybe this was relief, he wasn't sure but he felt better as he cried. Mycroft wrapped his arm around Sherlock and pulled him into a tight hug. _Pressure is good, soft touches were hell. They both knew that._

 _"_ I am so proud of you, Sherlock. It takes a tremendous amount of courage to come out and you are incredibly strong, much stronger than I am." The last part was a whisper, Sherlock looked up "Is that why you won't acknowledge the fact that you're a homosexual?" Mycroft's soft expression turned into a deep scowl "I am not a homosexual Sherlock, please don't say that. It's not very polite and very invasive." The younger boy looked over Mycroft, frowning as well "You're sleeping with your professor. You have a slight limp that you're trying to cover up and there's a hickey right..." He pulled the collar of Mycroft's shirt down a bit to show it "There. You tried to hide it but the makeup came off. Of course, you could be sleeping with a woman but I doubt women use cologne." Mycroft turned dark red with embarrassment "I am not a homosexual Sherlock, drop it. Now!" He barked, his brother scowled and pulled himself out of Mycroft's arms, "Don't follow me." He muttered sharply, running out of his room as if Mycroft just set the bed on fire. 

Mycroft never yelled. Whenever he yelled at Sherlock it was because Sherlock found out something he wasn't supposed to. Why was Mycroft rejecting Sherlock's statement, it was true. Sherlock didn't understand. This on top of all the new information and it was all too much. _Too much. Mycroft was lying, Mycroft promised he would never lie to Sherlock but this couldn't be his first lie to Sherlock. Mycroft was better at lying and hiding emotions so if he wanted for Sherlock to believe him then there was no way Sherlock could know he was being lied to... - > Mycroft is a **liar**. _Sherlock shook his head and opened the door to the attic, once he was inside he shoved a box in front of the door. Mycroft was a liar and was just going to leave him again, Mummy and Father will change their minds and Sherlock will be Aurelia again. 

That thought plagued his mind for the rest of the day.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter TWOoo yeahhh. a lot of this is from my personal experiences but the rest is just more of an 'ideal' situation idk. I really had fun making up these names, especially rudys. he will come into play again later in the story. thank u so much for reading, hope you enjoyed :)


	3. If I Am A Spider Brother Dear, What Are You?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft and Sherlock talk, Sherlock isn't happy. We get more insight into who Rudy is and how life is going for Mycroft.

Mycroft was gay, he knew he was gay but he believed that if he repressed his thoughts and deleted every time he engaged in intercourse with men that he would become heterosexual. Straight men didn't sleep with their male classmates, straight men didn't fantasize men whenever given the chance. Whatever, deny, deny, deny. It's one of the few life lessons that his parents taught him.

Mycroft decided that his petty self-debate could be resolved later. He was here for Sherlock and his brother needed him right now. It wasn't hard to deduct where Sherlock was, it wasn't likely he would go to their parents or outside, (This winter was terribly cold) so the only other place available was the attic.

Mycroft rapped his fist against the wooden door, he heard the same "Go away, Mycroft." he had heard only half an hour ago. "Sherlock, I apologize for raising my voice at you. Let me in, or I will just go to mummy and get the keys..." He knew that resorting to threats was the only way to coerce Sherlock out of his hiding spot. And as always, Mycroft was correct. A few seconds later he heard shuffling and then the door swung open.

"You're a liar. If you lie to me again, I'll tell mummy and father." His younger brother was honestly terrible at greeting people. Sherlock crossed the room again to return to the bean bag covered in old blankets, he glared at Mycroft as he entered the room.

"Is my sexuality that important to you? Don't we have more pressing matters to discuss, Brother?" Sherlock did not answer his brother, he pulled one of the blankets over his head and started to hum. Humming was one of Sherlock's favorite stims, Mycroft knew this because he had spent hours trying to fall asleep but being kept awake by his brother constant humming.

"Sherlock, we need to discuss this. Do not ignore me, I came all this way for you, do not dismiss that just because of the activities I may or may not be engaging in-", again, Sherlock loved to interrupt "So you do admit it, you're having sex with men?!" He peeked out from under his blanket and smiled hopefully.

Mycroft frowned at his brother "What did I just say, Sherlock! Stop this, please. I do not wish to lose my temper once again." He sat down next to his brother, placing his hand on top of Sherlock's messy curls "If you stop pestering me about his, I will take you to Uncle Rudy's tailor and we can get you a nice suit. How does that sound brother dear?"

Sherlock nodded, reluctantly albeit but Mycroft decided a win, was a win. They sat there in silence for a few minutes before Sherlock spoke up "I don't want to go through puberty Myc, I know what happens and I-I can't go through that. It's irreversible!" Sherlock had imagined what his body would look like once after reading one of Mycroft's biology textbooks that his brother had tried to hide. He sent himself into a panic attack at just the thought, it truly scared him.

"I don't know what we can do regarding that. Of course, once you're old enough you can begin taking Testosterone, I know it is difficult to get medical access to but by the time you're 18, it will be easier." Mycroft was trying to reassure him but he knew that Sherlock's mental health would take a serious toll when he hit puberty.

"When I'm 18! Mycroft, I need it now. Before any of this can start to ruin my body-" He cried out, burying his face back into his bean bag. When he looked up and saw that Mycroft was serious, his pout turned into a scowl "Are you telling me I have to wait nine years?" Mycroft sighed "Brother, I'm sorry but there is no way around that. The hormones will stunt your growth and are harmful to your growing body, It's encouraged for individuals to start hormone replacement therapy when they are well into their 20s, consider yourself lucky."

Sherlock's shoulders fell "I don't want to be lucky, I want to grow up in the right body. I don't want to hate myself and not be able to change anything about it for the next nine years." Sherlock had always been very emotional and despite doctors insisting that people with autism didn't show their emotions, they did but just in different ways. Maybe Mycroft was just better at recognizing Sherlock's emotions because he was also on the spectrum (but masked himself in every way possible).

"I apologize, I wish I could stop this and make this go away, but you know how finicky biology is." Mycroft sighed again. All he ever wanted was to keep Sherlock safe but it seemed as if that was going to be much harder than he originally expected.

-

Mycroft stayed for two more days before he returned to Oxford, his uncle greeted him there and picked him up for another one of his "lessons". Rudy had been preparing Mycroft to take over his position since the boy's genius first started to show. Rudy loved him as if Mycroft was his own son, and if we are being honest, Mycroft felt closer to Rudy than he ever was to his father. Mycroft never planned to join the political world but then again he was never really given time to think about his own future before Rudy planted this onto him.

Mycroft had gotten the Ice Man personage from his uncle. He had observed the man threaten countless politicians who Mycroft knew, had nearly the same status as the queen. Rudy had taught Mycroft every debate tactic, all the ways of manipulation, lying, intimidation, hiding his emotions until he felt like a shark. (Sherlock would later on often describe Mycroft as a spider. If only he knew the extent to which Mycroft's webs reached.) By the time Mycroft was 14, he was regularly helping his uncle out and meeting people that politicians that three times his age could only dream of. By age 15 he had worked with the CIA five times and had met the American president, he also found out that his uncle slept around a lot and that caused him some distress.

Rudy showed Mycroft off every chance he got and introduced Mycroft as 'The Next in Line'. There wasn't an official title to Rudy's job. He was a type of consultant for other governments, he could influence (nicely put, it was more like manipulation) a few thousand politicians and if he was up for it he could bring entire countries to their knees. When Mycroft first realized what his uncle could do, he knew that this was what he was destined for. Rudy was right, Mycroft's intellect paired with him being a control freak, having the ability to manipulate people with ease, his unattachment to his family ~~except for Sherlock, his one true weak spot~~ , and his computer-like brain that could process massive amounts of information and compare them all at once, he was made for this job.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im going to list some of the terms i used because some of them arent that well known.
> 
> Gender Dysphoria: a distressed state arising from conflict between a person's gender identity and the sex the person has or was identified as having at birth
> 
> stimming/stim: Self-stimulatory behavior, also known as stimming and self-stimulation, is the repetition of physical movements, sounds, or words, or the repetitive movement of objects common in individuals with developmental disabilities and most prevalent in people with autism spectrum disorders. 
> 
> hormone replacement therapy/hrt: its when someone who is trans starts to take the hormone of the opposite sex to ease gender dysphoria. a crucial step of transitioning. 
> 
> the last part is inspired by these. “Well, his position is unique. He has made it for himself. There has never been anything like it before, nor will be again. He has the tidiest and most orderly brain, with the greatest capacity for storing facts, of any man living. The same great powers which I have turned to the detection of crime he has used for this particular business. The conclusions of every department are passed to him, and he is the central exchange, the clearinghouse, which makes out the balance. All other men are specialists, but his specialism is omniscience. We will suppose that a minister needs information as to a point which involves the Navy, India, Canada and the bimetallic question; he could get his separate advices from various departments upon each, but only Mycroft can focus them all, and say offhand how each factor would affect the other. They began by using him as a short-cut, a convenience; now he has made himself an essential. In that great brain of his everything is pigeon-holed and can be handed out in an instant. Again and again his word has decided the national policy. He lives in it.”- sherlock when asked abt mycroft.


	4. The Holmes' Were Never Very Lucky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft and Sherlock aren't very lucky, good things don't happen to them and it seems as if it's just getting worse. Mycroft gets a boyfriend and Sherlock is still trying to fight biology.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for gender dysphoria, discussion of menstrual cycle, self-harm and domestic abuse (but its faint)

When Sherlock was 11 he got his first period, he didn't tell anybody but one of the head-boys at Eton had noticed how foul Sherlock's mood was. Two days later, Mycroft received a call that Sherlock had tried to stab himself, no details just that. He was in America with his uncle but he wasn't going to stay, he told Rudy's PA, Jamie, to have the private jet prepared and then excused himself from the meeting. Eleven hours later he was back in Berkshire, thirty minutes later he was running up the stairs to his brother's room, 308.

Sherlock was grinning a lot for somebody who had just stabbed himself 13 hours prior. Mycroft stared at his younger brother, it wasn't a suicide attempt but a very well calculated risk. Mycroft listened to the doctor tell him what they had done in surgery and how it was going to effect Sherlock. Mycroft nodded and thanked the doctor before crossing his arms "Are you satisfied, Sherlock?" The messy haired boy's smile just widened "They said it's damaged Myc, if it gets worse they will have to remove it."

Violet frowned "Sherlock, we discussed this. Once you're 18 you can you can get it removed. It is important for your body that you go through puberty, no matter how much you hate it." Sherlock tilted his head "I don't want to wait, It's already starting and I don't want it!" Mycroft sat down and rested his head on the wall "Sherlock, I swear on all that is holy, if you do something like this again I will personally surveil you for the rest of your life."

But as the hours passed, Sherlock recovered. He would heal and this had only been a minor hiccup, a nurse informed him that maybe in a few years he could take hormone blockers but he was still too young. Sherlock was in an even fouler mood when he returned to Eton a week later. He was lucky though, his mother had told his teachers that it was an accident and it wouldn't happen again. The headmaster was already wary about having Sherlock there, it was for ages from 13 to 18 but Sherlock's tutors couldn't teach him anymore and he was in need of an actual school. Sherlock was definitely a singularity at Eton, he was two years younger than the boy's in his classes, he was transgender (but nobody knew this besides his teachers) and he was incredibly anti-social.

Mycroft had gone to Eton as well but barely stayed for four years before he was accepted to Oxford, he was 11 as well when he attended and was months away from his 16th birthday when he left. School kept Sherlock from dying of boredom and he was allowed to do experiments in the Lab so he was overall satisfied. What he despised was all his teachers compared him to his brother. "Oh, you are mister Mycroft Holmes' brother, he was an incredible student... blah blah" Sherlock was so sick of hearing about how great and smart Mycroft was, he was just a fat know-it-all. (Mycroft had lost almost 50 pounds in six months before he attended Oxford, now at 19 his BMI was barely 18. Sherlock didn't care, he would always see his brother as the fat 11-year-old he knew).

Sherlock had no friends at Eton, there were a few older kids who were very interested in him but not in a preferable way. They would pick on Sherlock because he was smaller and a bit peculiar... Okay, very peculiar. Sherlock didn't mind that much, he never got along well with other children anyway and he really knew this as the norm. Of course, Mycroft heard about this and told his mother to talk to the dean, but Violet just said it was boys being boys. And it was, to an extent, until she got a call from the school saying that Sherlock had broken a boy, Charles Peters, arm.

The full story is that those four boys were trying to follow Sherlock into the bathroom and Sherlock got fed up and slammed the door onto this Charles Peters' arm, breaking it in the process. He told his mother that they had been irritating him since school started and then told her about his deductions. Charles Peters was a trust fund child, his mother had been in rehab for six months and his father was paying the school large amounts of money to allow him to stay at Eton, despite his horrible grades. Charles' friends: Sawyer, Lewis, and Alexander were competent students but they had committed multiple felonies together such as theft, assault, vandalism, and underage sex. Violet told Sherlock to keep his deductions to himself before they went into the headmaster's office.

Mummy explained the situation and they agreed to let Sherlock off with a four-day suspension. He couldn't care less about the suspension, he would have not cared if he had gotten kicked out of the school. He missed his tutors teaching him and he missed Mycroft, he would never admit it but he hated not having his brother around. After his suspension, everyone stayed away from him. His fellow students ignored Sherlock's deductions and comments and his isolation became worse, not only did he not have a single friend but he was in the midsts of puberty and his dysphoria had just brought suicidal thoughts into play.

Mycroft, on the other hand, was getting to know his uncle's friends, he used the term friends very lightly because half of them were on the most wanted list and the other half were military officials that could start a nuclear war with a single phone call. Mycroft also met his uncle's other friends, and in this context, friends meant male strippers, rent boys, and porn stars. Mycroft had walked in on his uncle with multiple men more often than he would like to admit so he had taken the precaution of knocking multiple times. Mycroft had stopped having sex with men after Sherlock deducted his... activities.

His uncle noticed Mycroft's aversion to the many men he invited over, he knew his nephew was gay but he didn't understand why he was acting like such a prude. Four months before Mycroft's 20th birthday, Rudy got a new personal assistant, he had just finished with his MI6 training but due to him been deemed mentally unstable, he was removed from the operation and was supposed to be let go. Of course, Rudy wouldn't have that and hired the man as a PA despite him being awkward, loud, and dangerous. Alexander Müller, he was 29 when he first met Mycroft Holmes and he fell head over heels for the skinny ginger, this was before he knew Mycroft was his bosses' nephew.

Two weeks after the two first met, Rudy told Alexander that his nephew was coming by for lunch and of course that made Alexander excited. It turned out that that lunch was intended for Alexander and Mycroft. Four days after Rudy forced them to eat together, Alexander asked Mycroft out on a proper date. Then a week later they were dating and two days into the relationship, they had sex for the first time.

Four months into their relationship Sherlock found out, the 13-year-old didn't say anything until they were all sitting at dinner together, Mummy was talking about something her friend said and everyone else was eating, Mycroft was just pushing his food around and taking a bite every few minutes. "Mycroft has a boyfriend, he's thirty and they had sex last night!" Sherlock announced, he looked incredibly proud of himself for deducing that since Mycroft was better a hiding things than Sherlock.

Mycroft choked on his food, he spat it onto his plate as his face turned red. He didn't look at anything besides the floor as he rushed out of the dining room and to the bathroom. God, he wanted to strangle Sherlock, this was the biggest invasion of his privacy. Mycroft had barely come to terms with himself being in a homosexual relationship. He could barely speak to Rudy about it, let alone explain to his parents why he's been lying to them about his sexuality for years and why he is dating someone who has almost ten years on him.

Sherlock hummed and continued to eat his peas, they had been sitting in silence for three minutes when Violet spoke up "William that was not acceptable, you shouldn't be invading your brothers' privacy like that!" Siger nodded "Mycroft would have told us when he was ready, outing him isn't appropriate at all. Imagine if he told your friends that you're transgender... would you like that?"

Sherlock put his fork down "That's not the same thing, he's been a fat liar told you he was straight when he's not! It doesn't matter if it's appropriate or not, he is a liar!" Sherlock's voice become more high pitched as he got angrier, why was nobody ever mad about Mycroft lying...

Mycroft himself was sitting on the bathroom floor, he couldn't help himself from rocking back and forth as his mind raced. He hadn't stimmed since he was much much younger, he forced himself to stay perfectly still at all times. Aspergers was non-existent in politics and on top of Mycroft's sexuality that was something he had just repressed for years. He continued to rock, his speed increased as he replayed the moment in his head. He wasn't going to face his family he decided, he would sneak out after they had all gone to sleep and just avoid all family conventions.

So he stayed in the bathroom until three forty-five am when he was absolutely certain everyone was sleeping, Mycroft knew where to step because he had mapped out every creak in the house. He snuck past Sherlock's door and into his room where he hastily folded his clothing and stuffed his laptop into his bag. He considered sneaking out his window but he was still shaking a bit from earlier and decided the front door would be safer. He put his bag over his shoulder and slipped into his loafers when a knock echoed on his door, Mycroft froze "What?" he croaked out.

Sherlock peaked into his room "Mummy said I have to apologize." Mycroft set his bag down "I don't care, Sherlock, I got called in any way so tell Mummy that I had to leave." He grabbed his umbrella and picked up his bag again "Goodbye Brother." Mycroft motioned for Sherlock to move but the boy refused "If you're running away because you're too scared to tell Mummy then you're not only a liar but you're also a coward." Mycroft stepped around his brother and shrugged "Well, I guess I am a coward then. Clearly, you've already made up your mind. Have fun at Eton this semester, I do hope you find friends because I doubt Mummy can talk you out of another assault charge."

With that, Mycroft walked down the stairs, out the front door and two his car. Mummy cried that morning and Sherlock just felt disappointed in his brother. Two months later, Mycroft woke up in the hospital with four cracked ribs and a broken arm and countless other injuries, some of them were weeks old but the major ones were recent. He vowed to never fall in love again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! feedback is very much appreciated.


	5. Ups and Downs In Alleyways

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock ran off, Mycroft has to find him but what will he see when he finds his baby brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> check the tags, updated. Tw for very very slight hint to sexual assault.

Sherlock was sixteen when he saw his brother again, Mycroft's once light blue eyes had gone grey, they looked dead. Mycroft's cheekbones were sharper than Sherlock's, his once ginger curls were dark brown and slicked down to his skull, there wasn't a hair out of place. He was wearing a bespoke Giorgio Armani suit that Rudy had given him for his twenty-third birthday.

There he was, standing in a drug house, looking down at his brother who was barely aware of Mycroft's presence. "Sherlock, what have you taken?" His voice echoed off the moldy walls. Mycroft crouched down as Sherlock groaned and rolled over on the dirty floor. Dear God, this place was disgusting, Mycroft thought to himself as he rested a hand on Sherlock's shoulder "Sherlock, I know you can understand me. Stop ignoring me, brother mine or I will let the yard arrest you for drug possession." They both knew that was a lie but Sherlock rolled over and closed his eyes, now he was facing towards Mycroft. The elder man shook his head, half of Sherlock's face was bruised no more than two weeks old, his hair had grown past his ears and Mycroft was pretty sure there was vomit in it.

Mycroft sighed and helped Sherlock sit up, he took the pocket square out of his suit pocket and used it to wipe some of the grime away from Sherlock's face. "Let's get you home." He murmured. Mycroft helped Sherlock onto his feet and practically carried him to his car. He placed Sherlock on the back seat carefully, Sherlock kept drifting in and out of consciousness. The elder man got into the driver's seat after securing Sherlock's seatbelt and closing the door, he started the Jaguar and pulled out of the lot.

Those fifteen minutes driving were some of the most anxiety-ridden ones of Mycroft's life, he kept an eye on Sherlock and kept talking to him, despite his brother not replying. Mycroft couldn't tell if Sherlock was overdosing or just having a bad high.

Mycroft parked his car and hurried to the back, Sherlock was awake again but he was mumbling nonsense. He helped his little brother out of the car and hauled him up to his flat, he fumbled with his keys while holding Sherlock up. He was barely sure that Sherlock was speaking English, Christ this was going to be a long night. After locking the door, Mycroft brought Sherlock to his bed. He hadn't been home in over a week, he had forgotten how disgustingly bare his flat was.

"I don't have money!" Sherlock shouted as Mycroft turned to get water from the kitchen. He shook his head and went back to Sherlock's side, Sherlock's pupils were wider than dimes and that made Mycroft feel even more uneasy. "Oh, 's jus' you." He slurred out, once he recognized his elder brother. "Jus' Mycrof'." He closed his eyes again and relaxed against the satin pillows, getting his grime all over the bed. "Sherlock, what have you taken?" Mycroft rested his hand on Sherlock's shoulder, frowning at Sherlock's dirty clothes and wondered how long it had been since his brother had showered.

Sherlock shoved his hand in his pocket and pulled out a little vial with the label MS Contin on it, the person it was prescribed to was named Johnathan Hopkins. Mycroft recognized the liquid too well, their mother's addiction was never acknowledged in their family as she went to rehab when Mycroft was 5 but he always knew. Morphine. His sixteen-year-old baby brother was using morphine.

"Sherlock, I'm going to get you some food and water. After you've eaten, you're going to shower and I will help you through your withdrawals. Can you tell me when you injected... It?" He spoke slowly and clearly as his brother whimpered, Mycroft could feel him burning up even through his clothes. "This mornin', nicked it offa Bill " His slurring was getting worse. Mycroft knew that the average Morphine high lasted 8 hours, it was half past 4 and morning usually meant 10 for Sherlock. Two hours, he had two hours to make sure Sherlock ate and showered before the withdrawals started.

Mycroft got Sherlock to eat a few bites of some leftover Thai food Mycroft had been snacking on that weekend. Getting him to drink water was more difficult, Sherlock's breathing was slow and raspy and Mycroft didn't know why... Sherlock didn't have asthma or any other respiratory problems that the morphine could have enhanced... Oh. Sherlock's chest binder, Mycroft had heard that if one wore a chest binder two tight it could cause serious respiratory issues.

"Brother mine, I'm going to need you to change." Mycroft fetched his dressing gown from the bathroom so they both felt more comfortable. Sherlock shook his head but then motioned for Mycroft to turn, "Turn 'round." He nodded and faced the wall, after a few loud grunts and the rustle of clothing being thrown, Mycroft heard "'S fine." He turned around and sighed at his brother, handing him the water bottle again. "I'm going to run you a bath and call work, will you be alright alone?"

The skinny teen nodded and pulled the dressing gown over his chest, he felt incredibly exposes despite this being only Mycroft. The elder brother did as he said he would, he texted his assistant and Rudy that he would have to take a week off for personal reasons.

-

Mycroft picked Sherlock up and carried him into the bathroom, he knew he wouldn't be able to get Sherlock to stand up in the shower so he drew a bath. Mycroft set Sherlock on top of the toilet seat and petted his hair as the bath filled up "Sherlock, do you have any injuries besides your bruises?" Sherlock squeezed his eyes closed "R-ribs, f-fractured I s-suspect." He hissed and slouched over himself, sitting up straight made the pain worse, the morphine was wearing off and quickly.

Mycroft frowned "Can I check? I could call one of my colleagues-" "No!" Sherlock yelled, covering his chest with his arms. "Please, no. Mycroft, nobody else..." He croaked and looked up at his brother. Mycroft frowned "You're going to have to go to get a check-up, Sherlock, eventually." He got the first aid kit out from under the sink "Robe, off. I'm not going to judge you brother mine." He crouched down and looked at his brother, Sherlock made a noise of discomfort and let the robe fall off his shoulders.

Mycroft had to stop himself from wincing, Sherlock's ribs were pink, red and purple. They didn't look fractured though, there was only a minimal amount of swelling. Thank god. "They don't look fractured, how did they come to be like this?" Sherlock leaned back and pulled his robe back over his shoulders "R-ran out of money, s-stole what I n-needed... Got caught." He hissed softly and closed his eyes "H-had to pay-" Mycroft cut him off "I know how these types of men work. You don't have to tell me more Sherlock. Come on now." He helped his brother onto his feet and after he discarded his robe, into the bath.

Mycroft sighed "I'll be down the hall." He left Sherlock to himself and went to call his mother. Up until four days ago, he thought Sherlock was still at Eton. He got a call from his mother on Monday that Sherlock had run away from Eton over two weeks ago, she had not yet told him because he had done this before but when the mark hit two weeks she decided to inform him.

"Mycroft, have you found him?" Violet answered after the second ring. "Yes, Mummy. I will stay with him until he is... mentally fit enough to return." He decided against telling her about Sherlock's new habit. "Oh, you are wonderful Myc. Thank you... He will be okay, right?" She sounded genuinely happy. Mummy was always so easy to please. "Yes, he will be fine. I have to go now, I'll update you." He hung up and put his phone down on his desk, this was going to be a long week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock is coming off his high which means the pain he has been ignorant to is hitting him like a truck. Violet was also an addict, i'm going to touch up more upon that in the future. mycroft's eating disorder will resurface as well but not in an expected way.  
> thank you for reading! kudos and comments are appreciated.


	6. Mood Swings and Embraces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft is trying to help Sherlock get back on the right track, Sherlock is being stubborn though. Mycroft confesses to something he should have told Sherlock years ago.
> 
> (tw, short discussion of sexual assault/sexual experience. depends on who you listen to)

This was Mycroft's first time helping Sherlock get clean, he hoped it would be the last but doubted that would be the case. The withdrawals didn't last as long as Mycroft had expected them two and within a week and a half, Sherlock was completely clean and had put on five kilos. 

 

Mycroft had lost weight,  Sherlock was too sunk in this miserable state which meant he didn't give a passing glance at Mycroft. He was glad though, Sherlock deducing his diet would end like Sherlock's last deduction, five years without contact and two completely new people standing before each other.

 

The older brother was working from home until Sherlock was stable again. Mycroft had already booked a few appointments for his brother to help coax him back into that thin layer of stability. 

 

Twelve days after Mycroft found Sherlock, the younger brother was awakened by Mycroft. His brother put a stack of folded clothing on his bed and ruffled his curls "Get dressed, brother mine." The dark atmosphere in the room was ruined as soon as Mycroft tore the curtains open and cracked the window so that the smell of Teenager could escape. 

 

"Why, is Mummy coming to pick me up?" Sherlock did not want to get dressed, he wanted to go back to sleep for another few hours and then take a bath and sleep some more. 

 

Mycroft looked down at Sherlock "You have an appointment. If I have to drag you out of bed and you show up in your pants that is not my problem, Lock." 

 

Finally, Sherlock agreed and got dressed, the clothes that Mycroft had picked out weren't that bad. They were a bit too long but Mycroft had more than ten centimeters on his brother.

 

Sherlock despised Mycroft's car, he had a driver and a partition... it made him uncomfortable how much secrecy was involved in his brother's life. Mycroft had two phones even for god's sake. What was he doing that required this much privacy? 

 

"I am soon to be taking over our uncle Rudy's position, my safety is... significant to her Majesty and her people," Mycroft explained after he noticed Sherlock's skepticism, he was so easy to read. Sherlock scowled at his brother "Stop deducing me!" He hated that Mycroft could just look at his face and read him, he was supposed to struggle with reading emotions... Mycroft knew his brother resented him for this. 

 

Mycroft's abilities at masking his Aspergers were impressive, Sherlock hadn't mastered masking and didn't plan to since he had to reason to hide it. Mycroft had been passing as Neurotypical since he was diagnosed, it was a bit of a surprise to Mummy when the evaluator had announced that both her sons had Aspergers. But the reality was that Mycroft had been masking his oddness ever since his grandmother pointed out that he was a 'strange boy'. He was five at the time and already knew that there was definitely something out of the ordinary about himself.

 

"Mycroft!" Sherlock snapped his fingers in front of his brothers face, he had fallen into his thoughts again. Mycroft sighed and rubbed his face "You are in dire need of a new wardrobe little brother, you can not wear mine forever. We are going to visit my tailor and pick up anything else you may need, you have three appointments tomorrow so I expect you to behave today." 

 

Sherlock crossed his arms "What kind of appointments, I'm not going to see some stupid therapist. They are less informed about how I feel than Mummy, and anyway I don't need help, I am perfectly fine." Mycroft could see that his brothers past therapist hadn't been beneficial, he suspected it was suggested that Sherlock should go on medication.

 

"It is required for you to spend at least some time with a psychologist for your evaluation, I cannot change that Sherlock. Besides seeing Doctor Lector you will be getting a checkup to make sure this... habit of yours hasn't harmed you physically." Mycroft looked over Sherlock, his brother was still at least five kilos underweight but the injuries he had sustained had been healing nicely. 

 

"And, who else?" Sherlock was picking at a thread on his sleeve, he always felt uneasy around doctors but he knew to argue with Mycroft would be pointless. 

 

"Uncle Rudy, he insisted on it..." Mycroft had to stop himself from biting his lip, he had absolutely no idea what his uncle's intentions were so it would be a surprise for the both of them. 

 

"He hates me Mycroft, what the hell would he insist upon. You're the one he always adored so much." Sherlock ran his fingers through his hair, it was getting a bit long, Mycroft thought to himself. He knew how much Sherlock despised getting his haircut and it would end up being cut sloppily at 3 am or Mycroft would just step in and cut it himself. He was running off with his thoughts again,  going off his Ritalin wasn't benefiting him at all. 

 

"Myc-" Sherlock whined, his brother's eyes focused on him and frowned "I apologize." Sherlock shook his head at Mycroft "Why did you even stop taking your medication, we both know it does more good than harm. If you can't retain control over your thoughts, it just shows how much you need it." The ginger frowned "You are not the person to be lecturing me on what medication I should take and not take, but I admit... You may be correct, my concentration has been lacking."

 

He paused and realized he had been rubbing his fingers together, stimming... lord, Mycroft, you really need to retain control over your body. Sherlock refusing to mask his Neuroatypical-ness and embracing his stimming was almost contagious to Mycroft. He could maintain eye contact for a two-hour conversation with the military director of Russia, he had been threatened by the president of the United States without a muscle in his body tensing but Sherlock always made his guards fall. He couldn't put on that cold and aloof facade for his brother, it always fell. 

 

"We're here." Sherlock nudged his brother, the car had stopped. Sherlock peered outside and read the lettering above the shop: 'Huntsman & Son' Dear God, this was not up Sherlock's alley. He would have been happy with a few pairs of jeans, a few T-shirts and a hoodie or two. 

 

Two hours, it took two miserable hours for them to take Sherlock's measurements. He stood there in his boxers, a shirt that was two sizes too big and his three-year-old binder while some old guy measured every inch of his body. 

 

He sulked behind Mycroft who held two bags, he wanted to curl up in the backseat and rip his hair out. "Sherlock, you're being overdramatic." Mycroft declared as his brother slammed the car door shut behind them, Sherlock actually did curl up on the back seat, faced away from Mycroft and the rest of the world. 

 

Mycroft sat next to his brother and told his driver to take them back to Mycroft's flat, maybe he had miscalculated how severe his brother's dysphoria was. "Sherlock, please do not shut me out." He set his hand on his brother's shoulder as they drove home. Mycroft sighed when Sherlock jerked his shoulder away from Mycroft.

 

"At least sit up, I don't want you getting hurt." He removed his hand and placed his hands in his lap. His shoulders relaxed as Sherlock sat up and put on his seat belt, he was still facing away from Mycroft. He had messed up, just as he thought he could try and repair their relationship. 

 

Once they arrived back at Mycroft's flat, Sherlock stormed off to the guest room and slammed the door shut. Mycroft sighed to himself and looked through the packages that had arrived earlier. Sherlock's new binder, a package from Mummy, a pack of 100% cotton shirts that Sherlock loved... Mycroft sorted Sherlock's into a pile and then carried them to the guest room.  

 

Mycroft sighed and knocked on the guest room door, "Sherlock?" He heard his brother scuffling and then there was a thump against the door, a pillow, Mycroft guessed. "I have spare keys to all the doors, I do not wish to use them though. May I come in?"

 

He waited for a few seconds and then he heard the sound of a lock clicking, the door swung open and Sherlock glared at him. His eyes locked onto the stuff in Mycroft's arms "What are those?" 

 

"I'll show you if you let me come in." He raised his eyebrows, awaiting Sherlock's answer. Just as he expected, Sherlock caved in and let Mycroft enter his room.

 

Sherlock had not even been staying with him for a month and the room was already a mess, what was he expecting though... Mycroft sighed and set everything on the bed "I do hope the binder is your size, if it's not I can always send it back... My acquaintance in Sweden makes them, she can send more if necessary. Of course, it will only-" Mycroft stopped speaking because of the unexpected surprise of Sherlock's arms around his waist, he tensed up automatically which made Sherlock pull away. 

 

"Thanks" He grabbed the binder off the bed and ran into the connecting bathroom, Mycroft shook his head softly. He picked up the box of shirts and started to place them in Sherlock's dresser, God his brother was messy. While Mycroft was putting Sherlock's shirts away, his brother returned and sat on the bed "What else did Mummy send?"

 

Mycroft sighed and closed the dresser "Nothing of importance at the moment, she informed me that you were suspended and ran away, that is just what she's heard from your teachers, not the official report. Would you like to tell me what happened before I hear it?" He looked at the sixteen-year-old, Sherlock, of course, wasn't looking back. 

 

"It doesn't matter, I was not learning anything that I did not already know. I don't need Eton. You finished before I did-" Mycroft clicked his tongue "Brother mine, as much as I agree that you do not need to go to Eton, any university will disagree. You will not be accepted anywhere if you do not finish school, do you really wish to go down that path?" 

 

Sherlock grabbed a pillow off his bed and flung it at his brother "Fuck off, Mycroft. You have absolutely no idea how hard it is for me there! Everybody despises me, I am singled out and picked on, they call me queer despite Jeremy's homosexual parents and half of their 'curiosity'," He used his fingers for the quotes before grabbing another pillow "And that is nothing compared to Adam and his brainless followers. I hate it there Mycroft..." Sherlock hugged the pillow to his chest.

 

Mycroft looked at his younger brother ”Are you, queer?”

 

Sherlock scowled at his brother ”Are you?” Mycroft cocked his head, Sherlock wouldn’t give up until he had an answer which he could believe. 

 

“Yes, but I’m not engaged in any sort of activity.” He watched Sherlock frown and then pick up on what his brother was hinting at. “That isn’t fair Mycroft, it’s my body and I can do with it as I wish!” 

 

“I was never accusing you of everything, you have mentioned-“,”It was consensual, just because I did it for drugs- Fuck you!” Sherlock was always so quick to anger…Mycroft rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed “I apologize, Sherlock, that doesn’t make it okay though, just because you  _ consented _ . You shouldn't have been in that position either way.”

 

Sherlock turned away from his brother and buried his face in a pillow. Mycroft wanted to scoop Sherlock up and hold him, his baby brother had been pushed to offer his body up for drugs. It made him feel sick, no matter what the circumstances were.

 

“Can we not talk about it, please. Why aren’t you seeking out a relationship, what happened to your boyfriend?” Sherlock seemed less tense after Mycroft agreed so he decided to stay away from the previous topic.

 

“He was compromising to my work.” Mycroft explained curtly, he hated thinking back on Alexander. Even after he put Mycroft in the hospital, he still attempted to contact him. The last time that had happened, Uncle Rudy had to intervene and Mycroft suspected that was the last he would ever see of his ex-boyfriend. 

 

”Liar. Tell me the truth.” Sherlock started hugging his pillow again. Mycroft bit his lip ”Why do you need to know, I'm not fit for relationships Sherlock, I do not have the ability to care about these… Goldfish! If you seem dull to me, can you imagine how dating normal people is for me?” 

 

Mycroft didn't mean to be rude, he just knew being direct was the only way to get through to Sherlock. “Did he cheat? I read that statistically, 50 percent of homosexual men cheat on their partner.” Mycroft shook his head at Sherlock's accusation, he actually didn't know if Alexander ever cheated but he wouldn't put it passed the man.

 

”Oh, I know. You got traumatized.” He grinned as he had just been awarded a Nobel prize.

 

”Sherlock, you can not just say stuff like this. No, I was not traumatized and I was not abused. I am not looking for any sort of relationships because I do not like people and I would rather gouge my own eyes out than engage in another one” 

 

Sherlock pouted ”Okay, I'll stop asking. I do know what you mean, I don't find boys interesting apart from their bodies but anything-”, ”Sherlock, I do not wish to hear about your sex life, please.” 

 

”Do you ever wonder if there’s something wrong with us?” Sherlock asked after a few minutes of silence. Mycroft looked up ”No, of course not. Mummy was single up until she met father as well, she had never dated before that…” He stopped talking when he realized their mother wasn't a good person for Sherlock to compare himself with, at least when it came to relationships.

 

”What?” Sherlock scowled again when his brother stopped talking ”Are you thinking about her affair ?” 

 

Mycroft frowned at his brother's bluntness and smoothed down the fabric on Sherlock's bed, how did Sherlock know about that anyway. It was before his birth… oh. How had he never thought of that, he had just assumed they planned to have another child to make sure Mummy didn't cheat again.

 

”I don't think you're the byproduct of the affair, perhaps more of a peace offering.” Mycroft told his brother, he felt uneasy about this topic. If Siger really wasn't Sherlock's biological father, it was going to create…  _ Issues _ .

 

”I considered it as well, I overheard them arguing and Father brought it up. I have too many similarities with father though for me to be… You know. We have the same nose and cheekbones, also our eyes and hair type… Besides the color. I thought it was strange because you are ginger and so are Mummy and Father but I am not. it turns out even if both parents carry the gene, it only makes it a one in four chance of passing down the gene, and fairly often it skips a generation” 

 

Mycroft already knew all of this but he nodded, he made a mental note to ask Mummy the next time he saw her. Sherlock was most likely right though, yes Mummy had an affair but he doubted she would have another man’s child. ”Yes, I agree. Mummy has always had a strong moral compass and despite her… _ slip up _ , I doubt she would be let herself become impregnated.” 

 

“I don’t want to know. If you ever find out don’t tell me Mycroft.” Sherlock seemed fairly certain with that, so Mycroft decided unless it was necessary he wouldn’t ask their mother. 

 

Mycroft observed his brother, he looked less tense than he was earlier. Perhaps it was because they were talking or because Sherlock was back in his comfort zone, most likely the latter. They hadn’t spoken like this since Sherlock first came out, they had grown so distant since then. 

 

Mycroft wondered if it was his fault that Sherlock had turned to drugs, Mycroft hadn’t been there for him so Sherlock most likely felt as if he had nobody. Mummy or Father would never understand how he felt, the only person who ever had understood Sherlock was him.

 

”Tomorrow, you are going to get a physical exam done to make sure you are healthy, if everything is in order then I presume it will be another month until you can start hormone replacement therapy.” Mycroft looked his brother in the eye as he told him what he had been planning. 

 

Sherlock looked at his brother with surprise, Mycroft smiled softly at the younger man. Sherlock’s shock was rewarding. “What?” Sherlock finally choked out. 

 

“Hormone replacement therapy, you’re going to the doctors tomorrow to see if you’re eligible.” Mycroft repeated.

 

Sherlock let out a squeal of joy and hugged his brother for the second time that day. Mycroft returned the hug and smiled as Sherlock buried his face in the collar of his shirt. “You’re welcome, Brother mine.” Mycroft rubbed his back softly, they were both ignoring Sherlock’s tears which were being soaked up by Mycroft’s shirt. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they finally talk!!! myc is really trying hard to get his brother into a stable mental position. i know that it’s not that easy to get on HRT and especially not back then but what is fiction for.
> 
> masking- something some people with autism do to “mask” their autism and appear as neurotypicals.
> 
> also i apologize for not updating in a while, thank you for reading. kudos and comments are appreciated :)


End file.
